


Now I Know Your Heart, I Know Your Mind

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [3]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Tom asks Ben over to talk about his new relationship, but it doesn't go at all to plan.





	Now I Know Your Heart, I Know Your Mind

Tom woke around seven to the sensation of a dog nose jabbing him in the palm of his hand. Tom lifted his head and looked at the dog, bleary eyed, wondering if he dared to sneak a bit more sleep. As usual Max’s big eyes and hopeful stance won the day and Tom stood up, dressing himself in sweats on autopilot. He still barely had one eye open as he clipped on Max’s leash, but the fresh air outside woke him up and he enjoyed their ramble through the quiet lanes near the house. Once home he fed and watered Max, then sat himself down on the sofa and fell asleep again. He woke at nine, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he rolled off the side of the sofa. Louis was due to be dropped off at any moment, and he stumbled around the lounge in a panic, for a moment, worried that he'd somehow missed the doorbell. Satisfied that all was well he changed his shirt, brushed his teeth, and got Max settled into his crate. Max was a gentle dog, but it was always best to have him corralled for the first few minutes of Louis’ visits, lest the toddler be knocked over in Max’s excitement at seeing him again.

He held his phone in his hands as he waited, wondering if it was late enough to text Shannon. She'd said she'd wake when the sun hit her face, but that could be any time, really, and he found that he couldn't remember which way her room faced, in terms of cardinal directions. The doorbell was a relief from that train of thought and he ran down the stairs to let Rachel in, Louis in her arms.

"He's not feeling great," she said as she handed him over. "He's had a low fever, runny nose, bit of a cough. He's clingy." 

Tom nodded, holding his arms out. "I've got some Calpol in. When did he last have some?"

She was unwinding Louis' arms from her neck, but he kept winding them back around, fingers in her hair, his eyes still closed. "Just before we drove over here, maybe half eight?" She succeeded in getting his arms free, and he started to whimper, which turned into a wail as Tom took him in his arms.

"We'll be fine." He rubbed Louis' back, listening to him snuffling loud right at his ear as he cried, mumbling something that sounded like "mama."

Rachael looked torn. "He's been so attached to me yesterday and he hardly slept last night, he was just up and down so much."

Tom stepped back into the foyer, the door still open. "Did you want to come in for a while?"

"Probably better if I don't," she admitted. "And I've got to go to work, anyway."

"It's fine, really. We're fine." He switched Louis to his other shoulder, looking at him briefly. Louis scowled at him, his lower lip wobbling. "Aren't we buddy?"

When Louis rested his head on Tom's shoulder it felt like resignation. 

"Have you got diapers in? He's just not interested in the toilet. I swear, over the last day he's regressed."

Tom jostled him lightly. "I've got plenty. It's fine, he's just got a cold. If anything changes I'll call you right away, right? We're fine." _I am his father, not some babysitter,_ he wanted to add, but that wasn't fair, not really. Rachael did the heavy lifting when it came to Louis, and Louis was at an age where he preferred his mother anyway. And besides, saying it would be satisfying for a moment, then cause a world of discord between them. Not worth it.

"Alright. Bye, honey." She leaned up and kissed Louis' cheek, then slipped out.

Louis was silent for a moment, assessing the situation. He looked up at the high ceiling of the staircase, pointed at the door at the top of the stairs, a clear command.

"You're not talking today?" Tom asked as he walked up the stairs, Louis a damp warm weight in his arms. "We'll just have a quiet day in, alright buddy?"

Louis alternated between being fractious, fighting to get down off the sofa or out of Tom's arms, and clingy, as Rachael had said. He accepted any snack or drink that Tom gave him, for one or two bites or sips, then threw it on the floor, much to Max’s delight, leading to Tom offering smaller and smaller amounts of juice and water. He looked down Louis' throat easily at one point when he was having a good cry, but other than being a little red it looked normal. Rachael hadn't called a doctor, and he wouldn't either, as long as Louis seemed alright with him.

"You are a snot monster, child," he said as he wiped Louis' nose for what had to be the hundredth time, the pile of tissue in the wastebasket by the sofa attesting to that fact. Louis tossed his head around, avoiding the tissue, and Tom gave up trying to make him blow his nose, since he simply didn't get it, leaving him to just run everywhere. Finally he seemed tired enough, just after lunch, to actually lie down for a nap, but shrieked every time Tom put him in his cot. He gave up and laid down on his own bed, Louis propped against his chest, falling asleep himself easily enough.

Louis was still sound asleep when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Ben.

_I'm back home already. Are you in London?_

Tom texted back with one hand. _I'm at home with Louis._ He paused before adding more. Soonest begun is soonest done, he thought, tapping out the rest of his message. _Can we meet up tomorrow?_

Ben's message was almost immediate. _Gone again tomorrow dammit. Really wanted to see you._ It was a bold statement for a text between them, Tom thought, given that they weren’t given to declarations.

Tom turned the sentence over and over in his mind, couldn't figure a way to make it sound less ominous. Finally he just tapped it out and sent it. _I really want to talk to you._

The wait was longer this time, but finally Ben responded. _What about?_

_Let me see if I can get out from under Louis and call you. He's asleep._ Tom began rolling away from him, trying to keep him propped up on pillows as he did.

_Let me just come over._

While Tom thought about it, Ben texted him again. _The bike is out front. I won't be ten minutes._

_Might wake up by the time you get here. And he's sick, don't forget._

_I've had my jabs. And I won't lick him._

Tom sighed deeply, moving Louis up and down slowly as he did. The little boy barely stirred, his breathing deep and even, though through his mouth.

_Alright. See you in a few._ He resisted the urge to chew on the side of his thumb, already ragged after his early morning cab ride. It would be good to get this conversation out of the way, and to get Ben's thoughts on Shannon. So why was he feeling so nerved up about it?

Tom settled Louis in his cot about five minutes later, then made a pot of coffee while he waited for Ben.

Ben let himself in, as usual, and his tread on the stair was quiet, careful of Louis. Tom stirred the sugar into Ben's mug, his stomach tight. There was no good way to do this, but it had to be done.

"Hi." Ben whispered as he entered the kitchen, his helmet under his arm. He still looked oddly insect-like with his motorcycle boots on, tight trousers, and leather jacket. Tom had once teased him that his kit cost more than the bike had in the first place, and Ben had pointed out that it wasn't all that odd, considering the amount of money it would cost him, having to recover from some sort of accident that left him disfigured. _What about the spectre of Death lurking around every corner in London?_ Tom had asked, and Ben had shrugged, expansive but somehow serious, and Tom had realized that for all he didn't appear to dwell on it, his brush with a possibly violent death had marked him deeper than Tom had supposed.

All those thoughts went through his head as he set the mugs down on the table. "Hi yourself," he said, his voice just a bit quieter than usual. Louis' door was open, the better for Tom to hear if he woke and fussed, but it was safe enough to talk in the kitchen. "Did you want to take your boots off?"

"Actually yes," Ben said, backtracking to the front door. He looked a little more like himself, after, hair mussed from the helmet but his stocking feet and regular shirt he'd been wearing under the leather looking more at home in Tom's house than the rest of the biking kit.

Tom pushed Ben's coffee towards him, sat down across the table. When Ben stretched his legs out it was natural for his feet to bump against Tom's leg, and he resisted the impulse to pull away.

"So what's this all about then?" Ben asked. He took a drink, and Tom pushed the sugar bowl towards him, but Ben just shook his head.

"I met someone," Tom began, watching Ben carefully.

"Oh? When?" Ben sat up a little straighter, alert, tuned in to his every word.

"Last night." Tom watched as Ben relaxed visibly, wishing he could tell him not to. The amount of time he'd known her wasn't proportional to how sure he was that she was worth this conversation, and all it entailed. "She was the artist at that gallery thing I went to."

"Did your publicist set you up or something?"

Tom shook his head. "I kind of gave her the slip, actually, left with Shannon and all."

"That's not going to earn you any points, you know." Ben flexed his toes against Tom's jeans, kneading him like a cat. Proprietary, Tom thought.

Tom shrugged. "I pay her, remember? Anyway. I met Shannon, and I'm going to see her again." He licked his lips, not sure of how to continue. "The thing is, I don't want to tell her about us, right off the bat."

"I should hope not," Ben said. 

Tom nodded, acknowledging the fact that their privacy was essential. "I mean, though, I don't want to scare her off by telling her that I've got another partner, right off the bat. I don't know what she's into, I don't know anything about her."

"But you know you want to see her again," Ben supplied.

"There is that."

"You must know some things about her."

Tom thought of being in her studio, in her flat, all the things she'd told him about her parents and her sister, and thought about tucking her in, smoothing that quilt she'd made herself over her shoulder. "Yeah, I mean, we stayed up half the night talking."

"Sounds serious." Ben took his foot away slowly.

"That's the thing. I feel like this is really sort of fragile, right now. I don't want to open with, I have a male partner who I dominate from time to time."

"Why not? Isn't that part of who you are?"

Tom sighed deeply, having expected the question, having felt it in himself, already. Wasn't it? And if Shannon couldn't accept it, wouldn't it be just as well that he not get any deeper into a relationship with her? But his arrangement with Ben was casual, and intermittent. It would be challenging to maintain a relationship with Shannon, with anyone, but it felt like the beginning of something. He didn't want to jeopardize that for the sake of keeping his rare meetings with Ben.

"It is, but I've got no idea how she'll take it. I've got no idea if she's ok with that sort of an open aspect to a relationship."

"And you've got no idea if she's into being dominated," Ben said, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Tom thought of her bared neck, for a moment, wondered about instincts and coincidences. "I don't have any idea, but when's the last time you threw that into the conversation first thing?"

"Never, because other than you I haven't maintained a relationship beyond a few casual dates in," he rolled his shoulders back while he thought. "Over a year."

"Right. Longer for me. Since Louis." Tom rested his elbow on the table and put his forehead in his hand for a moment, massaging his temples. "We didn't think this through, did we?"

"Looks to me like you didn't think it through," Ben said.

Tom looked up. "No, I mean, when either of us was going to meet someone, pursue a," he stumbled for a moment, almost said _real_ , "long term relationship with someone. When did we think we were going to mention it?"

"I always figured I'd bring it up after I was sure that we were a good match, after I'd figured out if we were going to work out for the long term."

"It didn't feel like starting under false pretences?" Tom turned his mug around in his hands, wondering if it was an option after all.

"What's false about it? If a woman were to ask if we were exclusive I'd have answered, but it never even got to that point."

"Let's say, though, that it did, and you asked her, and she had been seeing someone else too."

Ben flinched, minutely, but didn't look away. "Fair play. Unless you say you're exclusive, it's not assumed."

Tom leaned back, his foot bumping against Ben's leg. He pulled it away in a motion he hoped was taken for natural movement. He tried the thought on for size, tried to see how it felt in his mind. For some reason a certain moment with Shannon popped into his mind, her hand flat against his chest, her steady voice, _just so you know, I'm not having sex with you tonight._ It was possible that she wouldn't assume exclusivity unless it was stated as such, but he doubted she’d go too long without asking.

"So, what did they think when you told them?" Tom asked.

"I never got to the point that I felt like I had to tell anyone," Ben said.

"Ok." Tom finished his coffee. "It doesn't feel right, with this one."

"So I don't feel right." Ben's mouth was a thin line, his spine perfectly straight.

"I didn't say that," Tom said. "I said that starting a relationship with this woman without telling her from the off that I'm with someone else feels wrong."

"How can you even know that you're starting a relationship with her if you haven't even spent more than one night with her?"

"I just do."

Ben stretched, leaning his back over the back of the chair, tilting it back on its legs, then standing up after he'd lowered it to the floor. "And it doesn't feel right to you, to stay with me when you're starting out with her."

Something about Ben's word choice rubbed him the wrong way, but Tom couldn't deny that that was the gist of it. "Essentially yes."

"Well, what about what I want?" He had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the worktop.

"You wanted to have this casual thing," Tom began, already feeling that he was losing control of the conversation.

"Wanted, past tense. When we were leaving Stuart, I wanted this casual thing. It's persisted for almost two years, I'd say it's gone a bit beyond casual, don't you think?"

"It's not the longevity of it I'm questioning," Tom said. "You never told me you wanted it to be different. I've seen you every two to three months, Ben, that's hardly a consistent relationship. I see you when I can. That's part of what makes it casual."

"You're the most consistent relationship I've had for the last two years, maybe longer than that, even, considering, and the fact that we're not in the same place at the same time doesn't mean bollocks in terms of whether it's casual or not, you should know that." Ben pinched the top of the bridge of his nose, and for a moment Tom was afraid he was going to start crying. Between that and the ripping sensation in the pit of his stomach, the conversation was officially off the rails.

"I'm not a bloody mind reader," Tom pointed out. He stayed sitting, hoping that the fact that Ben was standing would give the other man a sense of not being overpowered, given both their history and the fact that Tom had started the conversation to begin with.

"You shouldn't have to be." Ben let that hang in the air as he stalked off to the lounge.

Tom sighed, trying to figure out what the hell he meant by that, but fairly sure that he knew. They were seldom in the same place at the same time, true, but they talked frequently, at least once a week, and that was a claim Tom couldn't make for any of his other friends. They didn't talk about sex, had never tried to titillate one another over the phone, but the sheer volume of their conversations apparently counted to Ben as something that made the sexual side of their friendship something more than Tom had thought it was. 

Tom followed him and sat down on the sofa, while Ben had already claimed his usual spot in the armchair. The silence between them, for all that the conversation had been charged, wasn't horrible, Tom realized. Ben was gathering his thoughts, and Tom let him.

"You don't want to tell Shannon about me right off the bat, because it might jeopardize your chances of having something with her for the long term." Ben looked up at him, seeking confirmation.

"Right."

"So, you'd prefer your chances with her, to keeping me."

Tom felt like he'd been firmly tapped in the gut, the wind not knocked out of him, but close. "I think the salient point here is that I didn't realize that I had you, precisely."

"Well, you do now."

Tom tried to sort through his thoughts. "You haven't stopped looking for a wife."

"No, I haven't."

"And when you find a woman you can settle down and have kids with, if she said that you had to end it with me, you'd end it."

Ben ran his hand through his hair, tugging at it, making his hairline stand out in stark relief against his high forehead. "That was the plan. I hadn't thought about it in a while."

"It was the plan, and no one told me that it had changed. And it was the plan on my end as well."

"Except you don't know what this woman is going to be to you, in the end," Ben said.

"I want a chance to find out." 

"And she says no, I won't share you, what then?" Ben had sunk back into the chair, spine slouched, his body almost disappearing.

"I'd have to figure out if the rest of it was worth it, on the balance. What about you, what if a woman you met had said she wouldn't share you?"

Ben had his fingers laced together, held against his forehead as if he were trying to push his head back into the upholstery as well. "It would very much be a criterion as to whether or not I wanted to be with her in the first place."

Tom rubbed his hands over his face. "I wish you'd told me."

"I didn't think I had to."

Tom picked at the weft on his jeans, thinking. To give up the prospect of a partnership with a woman, with all its normal and expected aspects, for the chance to stay with Ben, it seemed insane given the fact that Ben was still looking for a permanent partner as well.

"So what happens when you meet someone who won't share you with me?"

"I told you. I didn't think it was an option. I haven't for some time."

Tom looked at him, feeling the reality of what was between them, both new and not new, but still so fragile it could break at any moment. He thought of challenging Ben, asking him really, would he really give up the chance at the wife and children he wanted so much, would he really throw down an ultimatum, but it was the wrong challenge. He could feel it in his bones. "I still just need some space on this. Let me bring it to her in my own time."

"Which would be what?" Ben had relaxed a bit, his arms dangling over the edges of the chair.

"I don't know." He sighed. "For someone who expected me to read minds, you're awfully keen on particulars."

Ben slid to the edge of the chair, sitting up straight. "And if she says no, it's not ok, you can't go back to having me?"

Tom felt something twist in his stomach at the thought, at the thought of Shannon saying all that to him. "It'll be early days still," Tom began, thinking of walking away from her in order to keep something clandestine with Ben.

"And if she won't let you have me, and she won't let you dominate her, besides?"

Tom felt the answer to that one more quickly. "I don't think I could stay with her, then, not for the long term."

Ben nodded, looking almost satisfied. "Ask her soon, then."

"Yeah, I will."

"No, I mean it." Ben stood up. "Ask her soon, for my sake."

Tom tilted his head up as Ben walked over to him. "I will. I don't think I could do it any other way, at this point."

Ben sat down next to him, leaned against his arm a bit. "Good." He let his head fall on Tom's shoulder. "You know, the worst part is, I came over here all ready to submit to you too."

Tom allowed himself the pleasure of running his fingers through Ben's hair. "You knew I had Louis here," he pointed out.

"I didn't need you to beat me to a pulp," Ben said, sliding down Tom's arm, looking up at him. He slid so far down that he was resting the side of his head on Tom's thigh, in no way a normal pose for two men, but at the same time, not overtly sexual either, as Ben was facing up, head tilted slightly away from his crotch. "I just needed."

Tom waited for him to finish the sentence, then realized, it was done. He rested his hand on Ben's forehead, something sweet but painful clenching inside as Ben immediately closed his eyes.

Tom fitted his hand to the back of Ben's neck without thinking about it, then squeezed, the contour and give of the skin there against his palm so familiar it was comforting, even given the situation. He rubbed his hand back and forth, minutely, feeling the layer of grime where Ben's helmet had rubbed against the lower part of his neck, loosened his hand and brushed the grit away before carding his fingers through Ben's hair again, firm touches to his scalp before squeezing his neck, fingers working down over his spine to the tense muscles there.

"Is this better or worse?" Tom asked quietly. There was a certain distance he'd let himself go, with this, though he wasn't sure how far that was. Not as far as Ben had wanted when first he had come over, surely, but to leave him feeling worse than before would be totally unacceptable.

"Better," Ben said softly, his voice too soft to really have a tone, though it was lacking the pleading Tom had been afraid to hear.

Tom let his hand roam down Ben's back, pressing into the slope of his spine, Ben's back arching to encourage him to push harder. He ran circles with his fingertips firmly up and down each side of his spine until Ben was lying against him, relaxed, his cheek lax enough that his mouth was partially open, eyes still closed. Tom kept touching him, fairly sure that he rested but did not sleep. He wanted to speak-- but to say what. He couldn't reassure Ben that everything was going to be alright, when he didn't quite know what alright meant, and he wasn't sure that everything was going to work out to either of their likings. For a moment, as his hand rested flat and warm against Ben's back, he let himself indulge in a fantasy of it, having both of them, and almost sighed. It barely worked even in his imagination, where time and travel were fluid things. 

He could barely imagine what it would be like with Ben, if they were together again, given that he knew now of Ben's feelings for him, could reassess his own expectations and hopes for their relationship. It was true that he'd never happily contemplated a time when he didn't have Ben, but he had never faced the fact that Ben had become a larger part of his life than he'd originally supposed. And Shannon was something of a blank spot in his imagination as well-- having both of them would mean that even if she didn't want to be submissive, ever, he'd still have Ben to work out that part of himself, but that felt hollow, felt like using Ben as a commodity, even in his imagination. He sighed, let his hand move again, Ben never even shifting. It was a mark of how many questions still needed to be answered that he couldn't even work up a good daydream about a perfect situation.

A soft but high pitched noise from the bedroom interrupted his thoughts, and he lifted Ben's head gently. "The little man is awake," he said softly. "Got to stand up, Ben."

Ben gave him just enough help that he was able to put a throw pillow under Ben's head-- apparently he had been asleep after all.

Louis was standing up in his cot, hands against the top of the rail.

"Are you in baby jail, little man?" Tom asked, reaching out to him. Louis bounced happily, nearly jumping. At his mother's house he had a low bed, but he seemed content enough to stay in his cot when he was with Tom. Looking at him, nearly too tall for the rail, Tom realized he was going to have to get him a proper bed. "Let's get you out of there." He was damp all over, his tee-shirt soaked with sweat, nappy sagging off his little hips, but he looked happier, eyes wide open but without the glossy shine they'd had earlier. "Did your fever break?"

Louis was already squirming to get down once he'd cleared the rail, but it was the active squirm of a healthy child, not the fussing of a feverish one, and Tom sighed with relief.

"I potty," Louis informed him, already running towards the bathroom.

"I doubt that," Tom said, entirely to himself as Louis' feet slapping against the floor would have drowned out anything he said anyway, and Louis, smart though he was, had yet to appreciate sarcasm. That nappy had to come off, and the bathroom was as good a place as any.

 

Tom stood outside the bathroom door, straining his ears for any sounds of distress. Ben wandered down the hall, looking like he'd just woken from a much longer nap than he'd actually had.

"What are you doing?"

Tom glanced at the door, closed all but for a crack. "Listening for the sound of him falling in."

"You leave him in there alone?" Ben looked worried.

"He told me he needs his privety." 

"Well, he is two," Ben conceded.

"Two and a half," Tom corrected him. "Give him his due."

"Should I just go?" Ben asked, not unkindly.

"No, he'd love to see you." Tom caught on to the other question that had been implicit in Ben's asking. "You're always welcome here."

Ben nodded. "Thanks."

Anything he might have added was preempted by Louis' announcement that he was done with his privety. 

"Grand. Well, this is an adventure I must go on alone," Tom said.

Ben snorted. "You're welcome to it. I'll be in the kitchen."

 

Louis, for all that he was feeling better, was still clingy, and Tom indulged him, carrying him out to the kitchen once he had a dry outfit on. As soon as Louis saw Ben though he wriggled like a puppy once more, happy to see his favorite uncle.

"He's feeling better," Tom said as he approached, but Ben already had his arms wide open before Tom could even explain.

"I'll be fine," Ben said, pushing his chair away from the table to make room for the both of them.

Tom started going through the cupboards, trying to figure something out for tea for all of them while Ben and Louis talked. (Yes, the motorcycle was fast. Yes, Ben had seen a big truck on his way to Tom's house. No, he hadn't seen any ducks. This last caused a glance to pass between Ben and Tom _Ducks?_ Tom shrugged. _I have no idea._ )

"He's having a banana and toast soldiers," Tom informed Ben.

"I'll have the same," Ben told him.

Tom shook his head as he put two more slices of bread in the toaster. "You utter child. Shall I do your milk in a sippy cup too?"

Ben laughed, bright, sudden sound, and Tom turned to hide his smile at it.

After tea, Louis and Tom followed Ben to the door to watch him put on his boots, jacket, and helmet. As usual, Louis watched with rapt attention.

"Going home?" Louis asked.

"Yes, I'm going home," Ben said, and Tom realized how when he answered Louis it was always with his own words, only in a longer sentence. Ben had always been kind to his son, but it struck him that he'd also been trying to be good to him in other ways too, and for a moment it gnawed at his stomach a little. _What do you want, Ben, what do you really want?_ But that conversation had already been had, as much as it was going to be for the day.

"Come back?" Louis, accustomed to many comings and goings of the people he loved in his life, sounded unperturbed, but curious.

"Yes, I will come back."

Louis held his arms out, imperial, a request and command rolled into one, and Ben took off his helmet so he could lean close, hugging Louis, the side of his face pressing against the crown of his head. When Ben stepped back Tom held out his free arm, and Ben wrapped both of his arms around Tom, holding him perhaps tighter than the occasion should have allowed, though Louis in Tom's other arm was a suitable buffer against Ben being unduly maudlin.

"Come back soon, no matter what," Tom said as they parted.

"I will. Talk to you soon." If he put a little more emphasis on soon than usual, Tom couldn't really blame him. Ben flipped his visor down and hurried down the stairs, the visit at a clear end.


End file.
